


A Battle Won

by ikkiM



Series: Battles [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mikki Writes Canon, Post-Canon, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 20:18:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4975114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/pseuds/ikkiM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime fights another battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Battle Won

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuizzicalQuinnia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuizzicalQuinnia/gifts).



> This is a gift to QuizzicalQuinnia who is the MVP champ of JB Week. Thank you so much for all your effort and hard work and amazingness. This smut's for you.

This was a battle Jaime Lannister intended to win. He had broken the siege at Riverrun and taken the castle. He'd settled a Stark at Winterfell. He’d been released from the Kingsguard. He’d married the woman he loved. He would not be denied this one final thing.

Jaime leaned over the large, pale, freckled body laying prone in the bed next to him and placed soft kisses along her collarbone. He wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her closer. She placed her hands lightly on his shoulders and arched her back.

He had married Brienne six weeks ago. For six weeks she’d been his wife, for six weeks she’d warmed his bed. Each night of the first week, she’d worn a shift only to have him pull it over her head and throw it to the side. He liked the feel of her naked skin next to his, keeping him warm against the fading Winter. She'd eventually given up trying. 

He’d been a good lover to her. She’d been so shy and timid that first night. His hand had worked better than expected. He’d made sure she found her pleasure before taking her maidenhead in one sharp thrust. She’d gasped but not cried. She’d wrapped her arms and legs around him, cradled him in her body. Since then, he always made sure to please her with his hand. She deserved at least that. She deserved so much more.

Outside their bedchamber, she was the same Brienne. Sullen, mulish, stubborn, and her eyes an even more astonishing blue. During the days they would spar, argue over the best way to swing a mace, or which of the Westerlands houses or the other deserved their lord’s favor. Nothing had changed between them except that he'd had her, would have her again, would have her every night if he wanted.

Jaime had tried to talk to her, reassure her, make her understand she was wanted, not just as a means to provide an heir, but as a woman, as a wife. She'd gripped Oathkeeper and turned away. He'd paid for the attempt later in the practice yard.

Tonight though, tonight he would win this battle. He would not be denied the feel of her as she reached her peak around him. 

He kissed the spot in the hollow of her neck that made her gasp. He grinned to himself as he ran his hand up her flank. He’d been surprised how soft her skin was. He’d expected the hidden parts of her to be as rough and calloused as those exposed. He danced his fingertips across the crease where hip met thigh. She shifted closer to him.

Jaime worked his way up her neck to kiss her mouth as he moved over her. The former-Maid of Tarth might try to deny her response to his touch, but she let herself revel in the feel of his kiss. Her too-thick lips and too-wide mouth fit perfectly with his. He tugged her bottom lip with his teeth. Her tongue slid against his. He longed for his second hand, so that he could kiss her and fondle her breasts while he worked his fingers between her thighs, but if he’d kept his hand, he’d never have had her.

He kissed his way down her body, and he pressed his knee between hers. He took one nipple in his mouth as he stroked the seam of her. She was already wet this time. Her legs parted as he slipped one finger inside her. He nipped the underside of her small, perfect breast. A moment more, and her hips would begin to rock of their own volition. She whimpered and spread her legs even further. He dragged his thumbnail across the spot that made her writhe and pant. She clutched at his shoulders. It usually took no more than a dozen passes before she was clenching around his fingers, her eyes squeezed shut as she came undone.

He grinned against her breast. It would be so easy to let that happen again tonight. So easy to slip inside her afterwards, when she was still warm and soft beneath him. He could lose himself in her heat as she stroked his arms and back, letting him take his own pleasure from her. It would be so easy. But not tonight.

On the third pass of his thumb, as her hips rocked into his, he jerked away and let out a high and deliberate yelp. He rolled over onto his back as if in pain. His wife was panting but still as she lay beside him. He whimpered. She spoke.

“Jaime, are you—I mean—did I…?” she asked. He heard the need in her voice.

He grumbled, trying to keep the eagerness from his own. “It’s my back.” He shifted beside her as if uncomfortable. “ _Someone_  was a bit angry in the practice yard today.” He almost felt badly for playing on her guilt. _Almost._

“Oh—Jaime—I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Brienne apologized. 

Of course she would apologize, his wench, his wife. So honorable. Far too good for the likes of the Kingslayer. For a moment he considered giving up the game, but then he sensed her movement as her thighs rubbed together. He bit back his grin and pushed onward.

“Ah, well. You must make it up to me,” he said as he patted his own stomach.

She made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. “What?” 

He turned to her, knowing his eyes were glinting in the moonlight. “My lady, I know you know how to ride astride. It’s not so different.” He pulled the sheet aside, exposing his hard cock.

Brienne watched his face. He could see her wide eyes. “Are you suggesting that I—?” She was indignant now.

“There's nothing else for it, wench. You've beaten down your old, crippled husband," he argued, "and I'll not be able to sleep like this." He ran his hand over his cock, drawing her attention to it. 

She blushed and fidgeted beside him before sitting up and pulling the sheet with her. “But, I haven’t...”

“Haven’t what? Ridden a man before? I  _am_  the one who took your maidenhead, and I’m certain there’s been no one since. Now be a good wife and climb on. My cock is aching.” He could actually feel the heat of her blush and he wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d punched him and left the room. Instead, there was a reassuring shuffling noise as she drew up on her knees. She angled her back to him and he grabbed her hip to stop her. “No,” he commanded. “Facing me.”

“Jaime.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, “Are you certain?”

He reached up to cup one small breast and brush his thumb across its peak. Her breath caught in her throat. “I am certain,” he replied.

She turned to face him then and threw one leg over his hips. He slid his hand down her body to rest on her thigh. “Go easy. It shouldn’t hurt.”

He saw a bobbing of her head as she arranged herself over him. She began to lower her hips. He grunted. She stopped.

He took her hand in his. “You need to guide it. Go slowly.”

When she took him in her calloused sword-hand, he thought he might lose control, and then he felt the tip of his cock at her entrance. It was her turn to grunt and she canted her body, finding a more comfortable position. Then she sank down in one smooth roll of her hips and he was fully inside her. She wiggled. He waited for her to adjust. She went perfectly still atop him. He could hear her panting in the darkness. He stroked her thigh. And still nothing.

“You need to move, Brienne,” he said, trying to keep the laughter from his voice.

Another stuttering breath and she rose slightly to sink down on him again. He gripped her leg. “Just do what feels natural.” She rose again, higher this time, and slid back down. And again, her rhythm slow but becoming more sure with each stroke. He reached his hand up to where they were joined and scraped his thumb across her nub. She inhaled and clenched around him. He moved his thumb across her in time with each stroke of her body against his.

“Jaime,” she moaned his name, and he had never heard anything better. He reached up with his other arm to caress her nipple, forgetting he had no hand. His stump landed just under her breast. He expected her to stop then, to have lost the moment. She had seen his stump before, touched it, dressed his wounds, but not like this.

Brienne grabbed his arm and clutched it to her chest as she rose up and then brought her hips down on his again. She kissed the scarred tissue of his stump, and once more she lifted herself off him, her skin now slick with sweat. He moaned and bent his knees, bracing his feet on the bed so he could match her thrusts. His fingers joined his thumb as he worked her. And there it was. She crashed down a final time, his name pouring from her lips as she clenched around him. He was lost. He held her waist as he thrust his hips, once, twice, and a third time before he was fully spent. He called out her name as she collapsed against his chest.

He feared she would try to move off him then, so he wrapped his arms around her and ran his fingers up and down her back. She pressed harder into his chest and dug her face into the curve between his neck and shoulder. Her breathing slowed as her body began to relax against him. His cock slipped from inside her as he took the full weight of her body on his.

He whispered her name. Brienne smacked her thick lips together, straightened one leg and worked an arm underneath his shoulder before burying her face in his hair. He felt the laughter rumble through his chest as he realized his wife had fallen asleep atop him. 

Jaime kissed the top of her head and considered it a battle won.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to JustAGirl24 for the beta and the ego boost!


End file.
